You Can't End Up with Jimmy

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the CW/WB. I own nothing.
Rating: PG
Season: 6
Summary: The overwritten scene in Zod where Clark comes back for Chloe and finds... Jimmy. The version I originally wrote on Kryptonsite was my first fic ever, and when I read it a year later, I couldn't stop laughing. It was horrible. This is the edited version.





*


The Daily Planet looked very much like a office thrown into a blender. Papers were strewn around, file cabinets busted open and spread like a full deck.

Window panes were shattered across the floor where hurried heels crunched over them, everyone stepping over cables and wires that had been torn from walls.

Chaos from the street outside had spilled into the basement through its once beautiful window, a MPD patrol car teetering on edge from the ceiling.

Dark Thursday was an all around, complete disaster.

And Clark Kent stood in the middle of that disaster. Shoulders squared, hair ruffled, blue jacket wrinkled and crooked. The dust that clung in the air clung to him, but that didn't matter since everyone else looked the same way.

Usually the basement of the paper was clamoring with competing voices and telephone chiming, but in this particular moment of Clark Kent’s life, there was no sound.

Even with his super hearing capabilities, the world had turned into a vacuum.

Journalists and copy editors darted across the room, answering phones that hadn’t rang. File cabinets slammed without any slamming. Hurried bodies pushed past Clark, but his work boots were cemented to the floor. He hadn’t moved since he pushed open the glass doors. Since then, and despite all the other chaos around him, Clark had focused on only one thing.

Her.

Clark always wondered if her hair existed within its own laws of physics. Golden strands that reflected its own brilliance, paired with hazel eyes that carried natural wonder and ambition. Chloe Sullivan existed in pure sunlight.

Today those same eyes were uneasy, not the usual brightness he was so used to seeing. Deeper into them, he saw sadness and maybe, a little bit of hope.

She seemed ok, despite a few stray scratches on her forehead. He focused his eyes, using his x-ray to check for injures.

No, perfect.

Clark knew he should move, he was standing directly in front of the double doors and people were having trouble squeezing around his large body, but he couldn't force himself to lift a muscle.


Chloe was auditing the mess scattered over her desk, absently spooning yogurt from a plastic cup. She had changed clothes since he left her the night before. He would know since that turquoise corduroy jacket would forever be settled into his memory.

It had happened in the exact spot he stood at this very moment. Perhaps that's why he couldn't move.

In the dark ambience of the blackout, Chloe had magnetically swooped in and given Clark the kiss of his life. It was as if desperation, hope and fate had aligned just right, and Chloe Sullivan and Clark Kent had finally orbited into each other’s conscious, sharing something so secret, so buried in the past that once it had resurfaced, it has awakened both of them.

Or atleast, awoken Clark.

By now, he could have had her in his arms, swooped her up and hugged her tight against his chest. But Clark just stood there a bit longer, taking in her presence. Had she always been this tiny and delicate? It was now that he realized just how fragile and important Chloe was to his life. He couldn't afford to make anymore mistakes, holding anything back. He was ready now. He took a step towards her.

But then she saw him.

He stopped, her eyes so intense that they weakened his sturdy legs.

The world stopped and so did sound. It was so silent as they locked eyes, as the earth moved beneath his legs. His chest shook with possiblilty of her in his arms.

And then, as if he were waiting to hear her voice all along,






“Clark!”






His ears cleared, fuzzy chattering and telephones ringing bubbling to the surface, sound finally returning, washing over him like he had been pulled from a very deep tunnel.


She came running.

Anticipating the strong embrace, he bent down to her height, a full foot down, and softened his shoulders and chest, because at the speed she was running toward him, she would surely hurt herself when she hit his solid Kryptonian body.

Chloe leapt up into his arms, and wrapped her own across the back of his neck. He couldn’t see it, but he imagined one of her wide, bright smiles residing on her face. He felt her cheek press into his shoulder, and Clark held her there. It was the safest place she could be.

His hands held onto her arms, unsure if it was obvious he didn't want to let go, even after their embrace had ended.

There was a moment between them, where Clark bumbled around what he really wanted to say, forcing Chloe to say something instead. It was this that took the hope out of Clark's eyes.

His fingers loosened on her arm, and slid to her hand. They lingered there...

But eventually, she pulled away from him.



“Hey bright eyes.”


Chloe stepped away and towards the kid that introduced himself as James.

Clark watched something transpire between them, something between fluffy and obnoxious.

There was a stab of jealousy while Chloe eyed the guy named Olsen. Clark's eyes were trained on the both of them, narrowing with every pass.

“Cya C.K.!”

Clark could feel a storm brewing in his head as he watched his best friend leave with another guy.

He shouldn't be jealous, not really. Chloe was safe and seemed to be in a good place, treated to dinner by a decent guy, even if Clark hated to admit it.

And Clark couldn't really complain about his situation either. He was thankful to be alive, to be back home. For a moment there, he wasn't sure if he would ever return from the Phantom Zone. It was the closest to hell that he ever wanted to experience.

But he was back now, and he needed someone to touch, someone to hold onto incase he might get sucked back into that torturous abyss.

But that someone was walking away, her floating, golden hair bouncing over shoulder as she climbed the stairs.

Clark sighed, starting out the doors himself. He figured he could start working on the massive cleanup he owed to the city. The mess that Brainiac and Zod had left behind.

Clark slowly climbed the stairs and rounded the corner that led to the street. To his right was the second flight of stairs that led to where he imagined Chloe off somewhere, smiling, happy.

He sighed and started out the lobby, passing through the revolving doors.

Out on the street, he looked left and right, not knowing where to begin. There were street lights down, rubble in the road. Cars flipped over and one dusty Metropolis Police cruiser crashed into the side of the Planet. It was the same one he had caught that night. And now it was sticking out, a stuck reminder of that night.

Clark walked over to it, and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. There was no one, so he placed his hands on the bumper.

And pulled.

The car wasn't teetering over the edge anymore, it was safely back into place where it belonged. Like it had never even happened.




Like it had never even happened.



His fists clenched, and then again.

His feet moved and suddenly he was back inside the building, already marching up the third flight of stairs.

Where was he going? Clark didn't know. But his feet knew, and they carried him there until he saw her in the small window through the breakroom door.

His fists pushed the door open.

When he saw her face, he knew now why his feet had taken him here. He needed resolution. He needed her to know that he had came back from hell to see her, to hold her. And now, all of that was nothing, like that kiss hadn't even happened.

This time when he stood across from her, she didn't come running. Instead she was very still, her expression very careful.


“Whoa," Olsen said, stepping closer, "how did you get in here? This break room is key pass only.” He stared at Clark, holding a credit-card sized ID. Clark’s eyes diverted in realization. Maybe that last door was locked when he nudged it open.

Chloe looked past Clark to the door, which hung a little crooked on its hinges.

Olsen took a step closer, surveying the door, but she gently grabbed him by the arm and forced a nervous smile, “Jimmy, you know looters were all over this building during dark Thursday. The lock’s probably been picked over and broken.” She shot Clark a glaring look.

Olsen looked skeptical, but shook it off. “Yea, I guesso.”

Clark swept aside Chloe’s sharp look by stepping closer, only stopping when she turned away, feeding change into one of the vending machines.

Chloe paused a moment, keeping her face turned towards the glass window of the machine as it hummed. She looked at Clark's image in the glass. “I guess you changed your mind?”

He watched as she carefully selected her dinner of choice. But Clark already knew what she would pick. Raisinets. Chloe always picked chocolate covered Raisinets.

Sure enough, after a pleasant chirp from the selection menu, he watched the small yellow and red box scoot closer towards to front until it teetered on the edge. Just like that car.

Teetering.

Stuck.


Olsen emerged from the neighboring machine with two sodas and pop tarts. “Oh um, you joining us, C.K.?”

Clark tore his eyes away from Chloe silent form, “No. I…”

Chloe pounded on the glass, trying to shake the Raisinets free. She pounded again, but something invisible held them there.

Just like the invisble force that led Clark here, holding him here. He couldn't leave without a resolution. These feelings that suspended over their friendship for so long were so heavy now that they had finally dropped.

And neither of them could ignore it. Not anymore.

Chloe stared at the suspended yellow and red box.



It had to drop sometime.


Clark saw this as an opportunity to move closer, to save Chloe's chocolate, but Olsen got there first.

“Let me." Jimmy scooted between the machines, "Small miracles are known to happen when I lay on the Olsen charm.” He winked back at Clark, and moved Chloe to the side.

Clark crossed his arms.

The 'Olsen charm' tried just about everything: bumping, shaking, wobbling, but the yellow and red box sat there, waiting.

“Stubborn little thing, isn't it?” Jimmy backed away, breathing a little more heavily than usual.

Wordlessly, Clark moved to place one hand on top of the humming machine, and gently tilted it at an impressive forty-five degree angle, just enough to let the box drop down

Apparently all it needed was a little Kent charm.

Clark smiled, his clear blue eyes searching for approval from his favorite gal.

But Chloe wasn’t impressed. She stared at him, brows drawn together as if she was really appalled he used he super strength at all.


“Whoa, Kent! Work out much?” Jimmy stood in disbelief as Clark continued to balance the machine effortlessly with one hand.

Clark snapped back into realization of what he had just done, setting the large block of metal back on its legs. “Um..”

“Clark does a lot of farm work, Jimmy.” Chloe’s voice was unusually chipper, veiling the prickly sarcasm Clark knew all too well. “I’m sure he lifts pigs and cows all day long. Snack machines are no different, right Clark?”

Clark frowned. He hated playing the playing the dumb hick. “Uh, yea. I bench press my tractor when I’m bored.” Clark added, chiming in with his own sarcasm through a selective smile aimed at the short blonde.

Olsen laughed nervously, as if he only partly disbelieved him.

An uncomfortable moment passed before Chloe let out a pent up sigh. “Well! I’m ready to get back to work. There are leads to be chased, headlines to write. A story doesn’t write itself y’know.”

Olsen nodded, and mumbled in agreement, a poptart dangling from his mouth. Clark watched as the photographer bounced out of the room, leaving Chloe and himself alone. Finally.

It didn’t take long before Chloe whipped around and attacked Clark with an accusing death stare. “Clark, what is wrong you?”

He felt his body shrink back. “I’m sorry. I was just wanted to talk to you before you got too busy with work.” Too busy with 'James Olsen', he added inwardly.

Chloe waited a moment, as if calculating his weak explanation and then deftly shook her head. “No, you barged in here, breaking down the door-- literally, and exposed your abilities to a complete stranger!”

Clark cast his eyes downward, knowing he slipped up. But he couldn’t help it. In the last few minutes his head was swimming with so many mixed feelings he couldn’t think straight. Hiding his abilities and muting his natural strengths every day was an incredible exercise of concentration. Sometimes even on a normal day Clark struggled keeping his Kryptonian abilities from peaking out every now and then.

“You know how careful you have to be around here. This is the Daily Planet of all places. Anyone here would love to put you smack dab on the front page if they found out what you can really bench press.” She crossed her arms.

Clark couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Whenever Chloe got upset, a cute little crease appeared between her brows. “I’m sorry, Chlo.” Clark tentatively stretched his hand towards her shoulder and rested it there. “I know how hard it is to cover for me whenever I screw up. It won’t happen again.”

Reluctantly her hard expression dissolved at his gentle touch. A fresh smile appeared on her pink lips. “Yeah. Covering for you has become one of my prized hidden talents.”

His blue eyes crinkled, enjoying the warm reflection of her hazel ones.

And then it struck him.

Clark swallowed hard, realizing he had Chloe all to himself and here he was admiring her like a dork.

He needed resolution. He couldn't go home without it.

“Clark, what is it?”

He looked down at her, struck again by how beautiful she was; not just because of her pretty features, but how she was always genuinely concerned about him. He forced an awkward smile, but she knew something was up, because he was pale and wide eyed like a scared puppy.

“Um, “ he stalled, searching for the words.

Chloe picked up the remaining soda Jimmy had left behind, cracked it open and took a sip.

Clark diverted his eyes away from her mouth and swallowed again. “I’m not sure I like this James Olsen guy.”

Her head perked up and turned to face Clark. “Jimmy?”

Clark cleared his throat. “Yea, Jimmy.”

She squinched her eyebrows again and smiled, “Clark you barely met him. He’s really sweet.”

Sweet.

Clark plastered on his most concerned, unjealous face and tried to plod along, “Really? How long have you known him?”

Chloe stopped in mid swig of her soda, and then slowly lowered the can from her lips. She absently fiddled with the perspiration, drawing subconscious shapes with pink fingertips. Her eyes darted over Clark very briefly before resting on an unfocused patch of the ceiling. “Actually, Jimmy and I interned with each other during high school.”

Oh, that long, Clark thought ruefully.

But wait.

“How come you never mentioned him before?” Clark countered, trying to hide his defensive tone.

Chloe shrugged her small shoulders and slid onto to the table top of the bench table that was centered in the break room. She held the perspiring can of pop with both hands, legs dangling off the side of the table. “I think I might have mentioned him once.” She looked back at him and found him staring at her with a funny look in his clear eyes.

“Well I don’t like him.” Clark repeated.

Chloe’s posture straightened, "Well, I do. A lot." Her brows closed, "Wait, why are you so concerned about Jimmy Olsen? He’s as harmless as a puppy and you know that.”

“It’s not Jimmy I’m worried about. It’s you.” Clark felt his breath getting shallower, and his voice lower. “You’re too good for him.”

She watched wide eyed as Clark Kent bowed his head after his last syllables rested on her ears.

Had he really said it? Just like that?

Clark Kent was totally, completely jealous and there wasn't anything to hide it now.

He looked up and found that Chloe's cheeks were just as red as his.

“You don’t know him, Clark." She said, hair shading her eyes as she looked down. "He’s really a great guy.”

Clark looked down at his boots, cowardly, not able to meet her eyes as he continued. “Great isn’t enough. You deserve better than that.”

There was a long silence.

Clark waited until he had the courage to say this next. “He can’t protect you like I can.”

This time he was looking at her, directly at her.

She looked back. “Clark, that isn’t fair and you know that.” She tore her eyes away from his and faked fixation at the barely sipped soda.

Suddenly he was right infront of her.

She blinked and flinched back, realizing he had super sped to close the distance.

Now he was close, his hands on her hands as he gently pried the sweating can away from her finger tips and knelt down in front of her.

Their eyes met, nearly at the same height; Chloe’s head slightly higher since she sat up on the table.

This was the only time in their lives that Chloe had ever been taller than Clark. Both of them realized this, but the humor and irony past quickly once Clark's hands rested on her calves.

Clark needed Chloe's attention, and up until now she had been distracted with that Olsen or that stupid soda Olsen had given her. As his finger stroked her ankles, she looked down at him expectantly, eyes wide and open.

Well, atleast he had her undivided attention now.

Every moment past with Clark kneeling at her feet, the further they stepped over that thin platonic line they seemed to draw way back when.

It was a line that they'd crossed, kicked and rubbed away several times, but stubbornly it stayed.

Resolution.

“Clark?”

He looked up at her, hands closed around her small ankles. Her neckline was exposed, blouse shifting as her chest moved with every breath. Her skin felt warm and yet...

She was shivering.

The words, were right there at the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t say them now. How could he apologize for the past years? How could he explain to her that they should have let this drop years ago? How could explain that all that had happened, every heartache and memory, everything had taken him to realize this. This moment.

The years, the friendship, the quarrels and misundertandings. What they did right and what they did wrong. How they came together and pulled apart, like magnets that suspsended over eachother for years, the pull becoming stronger with every pass...

The invisible force was so potent now, he couldn't help himself. It was so obvious now.

Clark was in love with her.


Clark released his gentle grip from her calves, rose up, catching her shoulders in both hands.


His hands were shaking.

But her hands caught his arms, and it was just like that. He was anchored, emboldened.

Clark's lips fell into hers, the rest of everything falling in and out of place. Suddenly, that line they had drawn way back when, disappeared for good.

Doubts faded away with every long pause of her lips brushing against his, every tug of her mouth that Clark reciprocated with his.

His arms went around her.


It was a long while before Chloe pulled away, eyes hazy.


“Are you ok?” Clark lifted her chin with a single finger and stared into her hazel eyes. There was hope there.

She smiled very softly, placing her hand over his much larger one. “Yea, I’m just… dizzy.” She looked into the depths of his blue eyes, and her smile lasting.

For several moments the two of them gazed at each other, both searching for the words that would fill the growing silence between them. But there were no words. Instead, they both grinned at each other-- content with just being together.

Clark straightened to his full height and offered Chloe his hand, helping her off the table. Even after she balanced on her own two feet, Clark didn’t surrender it back. He held it a long while, looking down at her bright head like he always had.

Her lashes fluttered several times, as if the cold realization sunk in. He felt her hand esacpe from his, her arms wrapping around her protectively. She was pulling away.

“Clark.. I—“

“I’m in love with you.”

He had said it. Just like that.

She deserved to hear him say it. Once. So she couldn't label that kiss or any kiss he had given her as nothing.

With words, Clark's words, it meant something.

Her were lips parted, speechless.

Good, Clark thought. For once maybe he could get a word in before Chloe tried to speak for him.

“We’ve known eachother for a long time, Chloe. I think I’ve always loved you. From the first time you kissed me in my dad’s barn years ago, I think I loved you then.” He paused, gauging her reaction and deciding if he should continue. Her arms were still crossed, but weak. She was listening. Even beyond just listening, Clark could feel her begging him to continue.

“You’re beautiful." He smiled, "Just seeing you makes me smile, inspired, proud and brave. You are the closest person to me, Chlo.“

A single tear streaked down her cheek.

"I can trust you with anything, I know that now," his hands, no longer shaking, went to her cheeks. "You’re always there, backing me up, defending me."

His lips went to her brows, "You accept me for who I am." He looked into her eyes, "But most importantly, you’re my best friend. And I'm in love with you.”

More tears chased after it.

Her arms fell to her sides, no longer holding in the protective barrier she had uselessly put up.

It had finally dropped.

“I’m in love with you, Chlo. And I just thought…” Clark sighed. “I just wanted you to hear it. Once.”

Clark waited for her, for the tears to stop streaming down her cheeks, but they weren't stopping. Suddenly, the fear that he had done something terribly wrong struck him like a hot knife.

Clark's chest deflated after Chloe’s long silence. He had hoped, well, what had he hoped exactly? That she run into his arms and live happily ever after? Things like that just didn’t happen. Not to him.

Dejected, Clark ran a numb hand through his feral, dark hair and started toward the crooked door. He didn’t know what else to do but leave as the miserable mess he was. All Clark had accomplished was to make his best friend cry endlessly and push her even further from him. Brilliant, Kent.

His boots felt heavier than normal, and he thought he should be able to hear his foot fall against the tile floor, but he couldn't. He couldn’t hear anything but the slowing of his heart that he knew would stop completely once the rejection sank in completely.

The world was silent again.


But as he reached the doorway, the strangest sensation rushed through his body, perking up his awareness so that he heard the sound of her lips parting. And then, as if he were anticipating her voice all along,

“I could never stop loving you, Clark Kent.”

He stopped. And turned.

She was glowing. A dazzling, wide grin spread across her lips. The most beautiful sight Clark had ever seen.

He blinked, and she was flying across the room towards him, arms outward reaching for his. He picked her up, and held her tight against his chest. Her feet dangled underneath her as he lifted her up higher, her head above his.

She tilted her head down and brushed her lips against his. Not able to stop grinning all the while.


“Perfect.” Clark whispered into her lips as she drew away to gaze at him.

“What?” A lazy grin formed again as she brushed a stray hair from his forehead.
Clark crushed his lips against hers once more before lowering her down to stand against him, their arms still locked between.

For once, Clark Kent was happy. Truly happy. And it was because of her.

Chloe.

Despite the eternity that he pictured before him, with Chloe by his side, grining with him, Clark knew he couldn't stand there forever, beaming down the girl he loved.

There was a mess to clean up outside. His mess.

He kissed her again, tugging her hand gently as he led her to the hall.

“Clark, wait.”

He stopped and turned again.

“My Raisinets?” Chloe giggled. She turned to start back for them, but found Clark already there, playfully holding the red/yellow box against his blue shirt.

Chloe blinked at him, a funny look crossing her face.

A realization.

Clark smiled and look down at the box against his chest. "What?"

"This is it." She said, her voice very low and awestruck. "This is the moment where we live happily ever after."


Clark smiled, closing his hand over hers. "This moment is better than that."

Chloe looked at him, a question mark formed through a smile.

"Those words always mark an ending to a story," the bright box pressed into her hand, her feet off the ground as Clark plucked her into his arms, "Our story is just beginning."


Whoosh.